Flying Colors
by gezundheit
Summary: Set long before the time of the 'Girl on Fire', there was another revolution. One led by a similar girl. But her story ended differently. The Capitol shows its true colors as an evil dictator while this Briar Keene struggles to fight against them. Will her district mate assist her, or will she be forever alone? Can they fight the power and survive? Or will it all end?


**Here is my fantastical new story. Enjoy!**

"I volunteer as tribute." My voice is barely audible over the mumbling rippling through the crowds, but the announcer pulling names waves me up, sending Rose Rain back into the waiting arms of her distraught mother. I walk slowly through the crowd to the podium on which the announcer stands. It is Ella Tettle, wearing one of her overly extravagant Capitol outfits littered with flowers and leaves. She is probably eagerly awaiting her chance to come and wreck the lives of two families next year. It is the 35th annual Hunger Games, and I will be in it.

Why did I volunteer as tribute, you may ask? Because I am the only one in all of District Ten who no one will miss. My parents died ages ago, my peers want nothing to do with me. I'd rather be in the Games and have a chance to do something important than live a meaningless life and allow someone else to die.

"What is your name, darling?" Tettle asks in her fake sugary voice.

"Briar. Briar Keene." I mutter.

"Our female tribute for the 35th Hunger Games is Briar Keene!" she announces, smiling. No one in the crowd responds. "Now for our male tribute..." She thrusts a hand into the jar full of slips of paper, each one a life. "Rawleigh Falcon." A boy who looks to be about my age, seventeen, approaches the podium. No sounds of moaning or grief follow behind him, no mother or sibling drops to her knees in horror. He walks through the crowd with a silent sort of strength, his expression determined, not a trace of fear. He stands beside me. Tettle turns around and beams at us. We don't return the favor.

"Here are the District Ten tributes for the 35th Annual Hunger Games!" She practically screams into the microphone she holds. A polite spattering of applause echoes through the town square we stand in, but I can practically hear the collective sigh of relief coming from the people.

"How many times were you in?" Rawleigh turns to me.

"What?" My brow wrinkles in confusion.

"How many times was your name in the drawing?"he clarifies.

"Fifty six. You?"

"Thirty nine. I figured since no one likes me anyway I might as well provide for some of the poorer families if I can." He shrugs.

"Same." I keep my eyes straight as the crowd disperses and Tettle leads us to the train that will take us to the Capitol. I step into the train, trying to keep in the gasp that almost flies from my lips as I step over the threshold onto the thick carpeting. Rich magenta velvet covers every visible surface not made of shiny brass. I'm suddenly aware of the mud and blood caked into my boots from the butcher where I worked. Tettle walks briskly through the train, chirping for us to follow. Rawleigh follows her, and I trail behind, running my hands over the fine velvet seats.

"This will be your room, Mr. Falcon." She gestures at an open door leading to a richly furnished room with a four poster mahogany bed decorated with down pillows and a fancy coverlet. Rawleigh's jaw falls open as he wanders into the room.

"And you, my dear girl, will come with me." Tettle gestures for me to come with her. I follow behind her until we reach a room similar to Rawleigh's. I step inside and close the door behind me before Tettle can say anything. I collapse onto the bed before noticing the clean bathroom adjoined to my room. I get back to my feet just as the train lurches into motion, and I almost fall right back down again. Once I regain my balance, I step into the white bathroom and swallow my awe. This belongs to the enemy. But that doesn't mean I can't take a shower.

I let my choppy black hair down from it's tight ribbons. It barely reaches my shoulder, but it's still too long. I pull the knife out of my boot and gather the hair over my shoulder before hacking away. If i have to be styled up by a bunch of President Hail's lackeys, I can at least make it as hard for them as possible. By the time I'm done, there's a pile of hair on the floor and the hair still left barely reaches my jaw. Much better.

I strip off my grimy coveralls and take a long, hot shower. First I've had.

When I'm done, I pull on one of the soft robes and start sifting through the closet. It's mostly full of dresses and disgusting Capitol clothes, but at last I find simple canvas pants and a white T-shirt probably eight sizes too big for me. I pull my boots on, making sure the knife is in them, and lace them up. I know I'm to meet Rawleigh, Tettle, and our mentor for dinner about now, and I'm probably meant to dress up, but I don't care. Forget that.

Turns out I was right. Rawleigh shows up in a collared button up shirt and nice pants, his bleach blonde hair still damp. I sit next to him at the table, across from Tettle and our mentor.

"I am Keaf. Your mentor. Don't expect me to be of any help, or like you, for that matter." The greasy man grunts. He's fat and wrinkly, maybe sixty years old.

"So why are you even here?" I ask, rolling my eyes. "And just saying, I most certainly do not like you."

"I'm here because I'm gettin paid, and that's all." Keaf glares at me. I glare back.

"Sir, I'm sure you'll be of more help than you think." Rawleigh says politely. I roll my eyes again.

"I'm sure he won't." I counter, then start shoving food into my mouth. Tettle had been watching the whole thing silently.

"Now all of you stop your scrabbling and eat the food and make polite conversation and act like civilized people!" Tettle protested. I shove my mouth full of food and then stick my tongue out at her. She gasps. "You go to your room until you can learn to behave! That's no way for a young lady to behave!"

"Why don't you make me?" I glare. She gasps again. Rawleigh gets this tiny little smirk on his face. I ignore him entirely. Keaf drains a glass of wine and settles in like this will be interesting.

"Excuse me?!" Tettle demands.

"You heard me. You ain't my boss and you can't make me do anything." I rip off a chunk of chicken from the leg on my plate and eat it messily.

"You go to your room immediately or so help me I will-"

I cut her off by standing abruptly, knocking my chair over backward. I take a dramatic bow, spit out a chicken bone, then spin on my heel and leave the dining room.

A few hours later, there's a knock on my door. "C'm in." I grumble. Rawleigh pokes his head into the room.

"Tettle told me to tell you that it's lights out. She said she's too mad at you to say it to you herself." he grins, chuckling.

"Tell her I don't care if she says it's lights out." I raise an eyebrow, curious to see if he'll do it.

"As you wish." He grins again, and begins to close the door, but at the last second he sticks his head back in. "You really don't remember me?"

Then the train explodes.

**Ah, the sound of cliffies**


End file.
